


Cibophobia

by bibliolatry



Series: A Tale of Phobias [5]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Cibophobia, Gen, John is a Very Good Doctor, john is brilliant, working around an issue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:26:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliolatry/pseuds/bibliolatry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cibophobia - fear of food</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cibophobia

“You should eat something,” John says.

“It’s just transport,” Sherlock replies. It’s his go to answer, how he gets people to leave him alone about it. How do you explain to someone that you have an irrational fear of food? It’s a good way to get laughed at. Let people think he’s anorexic. At least they don’t know the truth, they can’t harass him like his so-called ‘mates’ back in school.

“Sherlock, if you don’t talk to me, I can’t help you,” it’s been two days and John is still pushing for Sherlock to eat something. “Why won’t you eat anything?”

“I’m fine, John. It’s just transport. I need to focus on this case.”

“Right,” John sighs. “You leave me no choice.”

Sherlock looks over at John from his sprawled position on the couch. He raises a brow in question.

John picks up his phone and scrolls through the menu until he comes to Mycroft’s name. “Mycroft, I need to talk to you.”

“No,” Sherlock is across the room in an instant batting John’s phone from his hand.

“What the bloody hell, Sherlock?” John asks, eyes never leaving where his phone has somehow managed to land in the pot of water he was boiling to start some noodles for dinner. “There goes another phone.”

“You can’t call Mycroft. It’s not his business,” Sherlock insists.

“Then talk to me, Sherlock. What can I do? You need to eat. You’re obviously malnourished, I won’t have you die on me.”

“I,” Sherlock turns in a circle, pulling at his hair. “I… I.”

John puts his hands to Sherlocks shoulders and holds him in place. “Calm down, Sherlock. You can talk to me, yeah? We’re mates. Best friends. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Cibophobia,” Sherlock says, eyes trained on the floor.

“Oh,” John’s eyes widen in realization. “Well, why didn’t you say so? I can fix this.”

John’s gone for three hours. Sherlock has kept track. He’s certain John won’t be returning, so he’s surprised when he hears the front door open and it’s John’s footsteps he can hear ascending the stairs. John enters their flat with an unmarked box and a large smile on his face.

“Got a fix for you,” he says.

Sherlock stares at him with a doubtful expression. “It’s not something that just anything can fix, John. It’s a fear of food; an irrational fear of food.”

John shrugs. “Everyone’s scared of something. I’ve got arachnophobia.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes. “Not the same thing.”

“Might not be, but it’s still a valid point. Now, off with the robe and lay down on the couch. I’ll get this set up.”

“What is it?” Sherlock’s curious, but he does as his doctors orders.

“Myer’s cocktail,” John smiles down at Sherlock.

Sherlock can’t stop the smile from spreading. “Intravenous Nutritional Therapy. John, you are brilliant.”


End file.
